Soulcleaver
by Ydarissep
Summary: Nuk'hara Soulcleaver is an orc with honor, an orc with loyal companions, and an orc with a destiny. Who knows what sort of plans have already been made for him? Find out in this continuing story.
1. Nuk'hara Soulcleaver

**~Soulcleaver~**

Part I: "Nuk'hara. Nuk'hara Soulcleaver."

In the desert sands of Tanaris, there is nothing. Maybe a few bone piles here and there, maybe an encampment for some of the natives like ogres or trolls, even a few small water-pumps, guarded by the Wastewalker Renegades, other than that, there were just rolling dunes of sand and small mountains of beaten earth.

Along the horizon coming in from Steamwheedle Port and walking along the large dunes was a burly, robed and hooded figure. His face was completely hidden by the hood and veil. He seemed to be navigating the sands expertly, as if he was a native to these lands.

However, this story isn't about him. In fact, his story is about to come to an end. As he neared some ruins next to the road, he stopped. With his right hand, he reached up, grabbed the hood and veil and pulled them both down. He was revealed to be a human with a large scar down his right cheek and lengthy black hair that ran down to his neck.

"Hey! Where are you idiots? I didn't leave to come back to an empty camp!" His voice was deep and commanding; obviously he was the leader of the band that was supposed to be here.

"Right here…" An even larger, pale-green figure stepped out from the side of one of the ruined walls, wielding a large battle-ax. He was an orc and one of the greatest fighters on Kalimdor – if not the entirety of Azeroth. He was barely covered at all, aside from a pair of scale leggings. He was that of a standard orc – over six-feet tall and totally muscular.

"Fuh-…"Before the human had a chance to turn, his head flew right off and towards a small dune, five feet to the side. A fountain of the crimson blood shot out of the decapitated form for several seconds before dying down and the corpse falling over limp.

His rough skin now mostly covered in the red stuff, the man-beast walked over to the head - whose expression showed one of mild surprise. One large hand with meaty fingers reached down to grab the head by the hair and hoisted it up and over his shoulder.

"Bargar, come on!" he bellowed. A brown war-worg jumped around the corner of another structure, running and sliding to a stop along the sands in front of his rider. There were a few knapsacks on the wolf's saddle. One of the moderately sized seemed to be a perfect fit as the orc opened it up and dropped the head inside.

From one of the smaller satchels near the worg's head, a tiny white ball popped out and gave a quiet meow. The orc swung his left leg up and hoisted himself into the saddle, reaching into the bag and pulled out the small feline.

"Well, hello to you, too, Lita." Again the kitten meowed and the menacing orc seemed to soften quite a bit as he brought the ball of fuzz up to his face so it could lick some of the blood off. After most of his face had been cleaned, he set the little kitten upon his shoulder and nudged the ribs of his mount with his shoeless feet to start it off.

It took about half an hour for them to reach the Goblin town of Gadgetzan, passing even more deserted ruins and even a graveyard with a hanging-stage along the way. Once inside and past the gates, the trio was approached by an uglier, smaller, greener creature whose ears were pointed and large, teeth were jagged and menacing, and his lips curled into a wry and deceitful grin.

"Well, how did it gooooo?" Even the little bugger's voice was bothersome – high-pitched and whiny with a hint of curiosity that would indeed kill a cat.

"Well enough. Caliph Scorpidsting's head is right here." With his left hand, the orc reached back to the knapsack he had dropped the head into, opened it up, grabbed the head and dropped it back down in front of the goblin. Along the first segments of the fingers, in blank ink – from the index to pinky – read "Ogar."

"Well, it's about damned time!" The little demon-like creature shouted in glee, picked up the head and, in all the same motion, tossed a small jingling pouch which was quickly caught by the executer of this mission. Again, the creature spoke, "Thanks, stranger! Say, what is your name?"

Just as the orc and his companions were turning to leave, he waved his right hand back at the goblin; it was upside down, but it read "Dabu" over the first segments of his fingers – starting from the pinky to the index in the same ink.

"Nuk'hara. Nuk'hara Soulcleaver." Again, he nudged the ribs of his mount and they started off, on their next quest.


	2. Golden Sands and Bronze Dragons

**~Soulcleaver~**

Part II: "Golden Sands and Bronze Dragons."

"Okay, look. We're here, and the area is there," Said the rough voice of the orc sounded through the barren sands, which had turned black as the night had overtaken the landscape. In the middle of no-where, there was a tent large enough to house the three of them and even a few more. A few steps away from the tent, there was a small fire that still burned; a few leg-sized scorpions hanging above the fire impaled upon lengthy sticks dug into the ground to be sturdy. "If we continue along this path, then we will be there by midday tomorrow."

There was a sudden meow in response, and then the slap of skin against skin. Huddled around the fire, the trio sat together – Bargar was curled up asleep on one end of the fire, opposite of Nuk'hara and Lita, who were both looking over a map. A few meows followed the slap, then a roar of anger.

"Damnit, Lita! You just wanna go to the coast to get some fish!" The kitten pulled its head from the map and looked up at the orc with large, hopeful eyes. A quiet rumbling came from the tiny figure, which caused the orc to slap his face again. "Last time, NO! If we continue following the footsteps, we'll be at our destination. We cannot afford to make a detour at the moment." The kitten opened its mouth in a hiss, rose back up, turned around and sat back down to ignore the orc.

"Oh, come on! Fine, AFTER we'll get you some fish. Deal?" Lita half turned her head back around to look back at the orc, meowing and twisting back around to sit in front of the map again. The left paw of the kitten suddenly slapped down on a marking of the map that was at the far south, on the mountain range. The orc leaned forward to examine the marking – it was a crudely-drawn doorway.

"Hrmm… Alright, we'll go there after this one. Right now, we've got to go here-…" His own hand moved up to the far eastern point of the map, stopping just in front of another marking. This one was a circle - symbolizing some sort of cave. "… And scout out what is going on. The goblin said that the tracks stopped there, and the job does pay well-…"

Nuk was suddenly interrupted by a loud shrieking from high above their small camp, causing Bargar to awaken and the three to look up at the sky. A silhouette flew above them, cloaked by the night and circling their camp. Judging by the outlines of it, it was a dragon and from the sound of its cry, it must've been a drake.

As if expecting an attack, Nuk'hara ran into his tent and came out with a rifle. It seemed pretty standard – single-barrel, plated with silver, thin barrel and bayonet on the end. By the time he had returned, however, the thing in the sky had gone causing Nuk'hara to roar in anger.

"Argh, damnit! Second time this week. SECOND TIME!" He tossed his gun down into the sand out of rage and disappointment. After most of his anger had subsided, he picked up one of the roasted scorpions, grabbed the tip of the tail, ripped it off and started to devour the rest. "Alright, so… Tomorrow, we continue. I would suggest that you get some sleep, Lita," he said, in a slightly still angry tone.

After eating his dinner, grabbing the map, rolling it back up, retying the map and picking his gun up from the sand, Nuk'hara headed back inside the tent and laid on the bed-roll, quickly joined by Lita as she jumped on his chest and Bargar, as he moved to lay beside his rider.

Several hours had passed since they all had fallen asleep, and the sun was just starting to come over the horizon. As it did, the light shined through a few small holes in the end, beaming down on the face of the orc. His face contorted to a slight sting as the sun shafts pained his eyes through the closed lids. Despite the fact that he hated being an early riser, he reluctantly started to awaken.

With a groan, he pulled himself up to sit on the sleeping mat, looking around and noticing that Lita wasn't on his chest and that Bargar was nowhere to be seen. This greatly bothered him and caused him to push himself to stand up and walk out of the tent. The light outside was brighter, so both hands moved up, balled into fists and rubbed at his reclosed eyes.

"Lita…? Bargar…?" he said with a groan. After a moment or two of rubbing his eyes, he removed his fists and opened his eyes, looking around for the two. He slowly started to turn around to face his tent, but stopped as he noticed something. There was no-longer a nothingness there had been last night. Behind his tent, where there SHOULD have been nothing but sand, there was a ring of mountains that opened up to him. His nose suddenly caught the scent of the salty waters of the sea. He had traveled a great distance overnight, and his companions were no-where to be seen…

"Something isn't right here…" the orc said in a hushed and slightly disturbed tone. He moved back towards his tent and came out a few seconds later wielding his axe and his rifle over his shoulder and on his back. He slowly started to walk forward, into the ring.

There was a single raised walk-way that lead all the way up to the actual entrance of the cavern which the mountains just barely concealed – it was a very large entry-way. On both sides of the walk way, were some large-scale ditches that dipped down at least five feet. Scattered around were boats, tents, large statues and even a fortress which were all buried in the sand – some buried more than others.

"By my ancestors…" Nuk'hara gazed over the area with an open mouth, his axe slipping out of his grip and the blade sliding into the sand with ease. His attention was suddenly ripped from the things buried in the sand and he stared directly forward.

A sand-devil had kicked up in front of his very eyes, and began to slowly form and shape itself into a large dragon that was sitting on its haunches in his path. The scales were a magnificent but shine-less bronze color and gold color as the sand. The wings were folded back, and a sort of beard extended from the tip of the elongated jaw down to the middle of chest. The eyes were a glorious emerald green with black slits that stared down at the orc.

"We've been waiting for you, orc..." the beast's voice rumbled as it spoke. "Or should I call you Nuk'hara?" The orc stared up at the dragon in shock, taken aback by its sudden appearance. It took a few minutes for him to regain himself; his mouth closed and lips curled up into a curious but excited grin.

"So, one of Nozdormu's own consorts has come to greet me. Things… Are starting to get interesting," he said in a quiet voice, still slightly taken aback. "Lead on then, drake. Take me where you will."

"As you say, orc." The dragon's head and neck lowered with that and Nuk quickly pulled himself on top of the neck and grabbed onto the scales for support. The dragon rose back up, turned towards the cave, unfolded its wings and flapped them hard. The flap caused the sands to fly up with her and cover her and the gate to her home from any peering eyes.

The dragon flew into the caverns with its orcish rider, taking him deep into unknown territory…

_To be continued…_


	3. The Caverns of Time

**~Soulcleaver~**

Part III: "The Caverns of Time."

The entrance seemed to be a yellow-brown rock on the outside, but as the pair flew into it the illusion gave way. The entire tunnel was an empty space, filled with stars, as if they were completely surrounded by the night. There were flowing veins of purple and azure magic, wavering lazily along the emptiness.

"What… Is this, dragon?" The orc was completely baffled by the phenomenon, his mouth open widely in disbelieve. Suddenly, images started to pass them in square frames. They flew at them quickly, turning as they passed. Three in particular seemed to slow down for them.

In the first image, Nuk'hara caught a glance of a child that looked much liked him when he was younger. "Mother…!" He stood over the body of a green woman, who was littered with arrows. In the distance, there were shouts. The image fled, and Nuk'hara looked to the second.

In the second frame, it was him again but much older. He was talking to another orc, covered in black armor and with a brilliant silver broadsword. "… But I can fight! I can!" The younger image yelled at the much older one. Before anything else could be heard, it flew by like the others.

In the third frame, however… there was a muscular orc, slightly larger and seemingly older than Nuk'hara but looked very identical. A human was standing several strides away him, one covered in purple and brown robes, with azure sigils covering the linings. His hood was curled upwards in the back and ended in a point, with a face-mask with fangs covering his face.

"This is the end for you, Warlock!" The older orc yelled his battle cry and charged at the human, bringing the axe up, jumping and swinging down…

The image suddenly shattered, the dragon the current Nuk'hara was riding on having tapped it with her claw. The orc growled and gave a hard punch to the dragon's head. A crunching followed as the scale began to crack where he hit, and possibly from the breaking of one or two fingers in Nuk'hara's hand.

"Ack! You weren't brought here to sightsee!" The dragon cried out in pain. Despite the fact that the scale was there to protect it, the pain was still felt from the tender flesh underneath.

"Then why – the FUCK – am I here?" He was obviously enraged, as he wanted to watch what was going to happen. As much as he was a fighter, he was a vivid spectator to other fights – like those in the arenas.

"I'll tell you when we get there! Calm down!" The dragon was starting to get annoyed from the stinging sensation, and the fact that this journey seemed to be taking longer than it usually would… It was definitely strange.

More and more images flew by the pair, some of the dragon's own history, some of a face-less human (probably the one Nuk killed a few days before) and a few others that they didn't get a good look at. Suddenly, there came a bright shining light at the end of the terrestrial tunnel. It slowly started to grow and grow until they were upon it, flying directly into it. Nuk'hara had to reach up and cover his face to shield himself from the brightness.

"We're here," the dragon said. Nuk'hara slowly uncovered his eyes to be greeted by a large dome-shaped cavern which could possibly have reached up a mile, deep underground - and possibly even under the sea. He looked back at the direction from which they had come, and it seemed to have turned into just a normal tunnel going down and winding around a corner.

In the very center of the room, there was a raised platform. Inside, there was another dragon with its wings folded back, head down and tail curled to the side. It must've been sleeping. Above that dragon, in the dead-center of the circle, were two hourglasses stacked on top of one another. The sand on the top one flowed down from the top, and the one on the bottom flowed up. Several golden handle-like designs arced out from it and showed that the two were spinning in opposite directions. The sheer size of the thing was barely able to fit in the cave!

From the platform, there were four different paths. He was not able to see much as high up as he was, but there must've been something quite important in each. Something was on his mind, though, that he couldn't quite shake… Where were Lita and Bargar? Where had they disappeared to, and why?

"We're going down. Hold on." The dragon slowly began to descend with its rider, the orc holding onto the scales as the dragon closed the distance from the ground to the ceiling within a matter of several seconds. As they neared, the drake reared back up, flapped down hard to stabilize itself, and then gently lowered until it was completely on the ground with all fours. The head lowered again so Nuk'hara could get off, and the dragon began to change.

It started to shrink many times its own size; the wings melding back into its back, claws turning into nails, scales turning into soft tan flesh. What would have been a nude dragon was now a robed elf. Her robes seemed to have been woven from gold, her staff being the same color as her dress, with the design of a sort of metal feather or upwards flare-like fire. She was different from other elves; she had no violet hue like the Night Elves, and no fel-magic addiction signs like those of the Blood Elves. No, she had the shape of a High Elf, slender and petite, lengthy ears that pointed directly up, blonde-brown hair that went down to her neck and curled at the ends, and eyes as blue as a sapphire.

"We haven't had the pleasure, Nuk'hara. My name is Soridormi." Her voice had gone from that previous roughness to a soft and gentle tone, like that of a mother's. Her free hand reached out and was quickly clasped with his.

"Mhm… Now, I have one, simple question, Soridormi…"

"Yes, Nuk'hara? What is it?"

Nuk'hara took in a deep, deep breath, closed his eyes and held it for several seconds before opening them back up to look at the elf.

"WHERE ARE MY FRIENDS?" He shouted out at the top of his lungs, and before he knew it, he was surrounded. Several giant humanoid-like dragons were standing above them, their large halberds pointing down to impale the orc if he made any wrong moves. Their scales were as bronze as Soridormi's were when she was a dragon, and they were quite large and muscular. They lacked wings but made up for it with their menacing looks; such as their emerald eyes, large claws, weapons and jagged teeth.

The elf laughed softly, reaching up to cover his mouth as she did. She waved her staff, and the drakoids backed off, walking away and eventually disappearing from sight. After a few more seconds of her laughing, she gradually stopped.

"They're fine, Nuk'hara; worry not. When we brought you all here, they wandered off. The Guardians will look over them; they'll be fine."

A sigh of relief escaped Nuk'hara then, his right hand reaching up to run over his face. The elf waved to get his quickly-caught attention and started to walk off.

"We have much work to be done, Nuk'hara. No time for dilly-dallying! Time is precious indeed!" It barely took any time at all for him to catch up, and he was right beside her before she knew it.

_To be continued…_


	4. The Mission

**~Soulcleaver~**

Part IV: "The Mission"

"Every speck of sand represents something in time, Nuk'hara," said the dragon-elf as they walked. "For example, something as big as the shattering of Draenor, to as small as an ant's step. As there are infinite moments in time, there is an infinite mass of sand."

The four tunnels from before that were not all that visible when they were in the air came into greater focus. The one on the far right seemed to look like a forest path, large trees reaching up to the ceiling which was sucked into the tunnel; the one on the near right had some trees as well, but they were smaller and were very few and a tower that leaned a little to the right at the entrance; the near left tunnel seemed to be a sort of marshland, with willow trees hanging down their lengthy vines just above a small puddle that was in the sand; the final one, on the far left, looked to be like a street with abandoned stalls and stores, carts and carriages going along it and into it. The sand that lead into each gave way to the environment which was suitable for each until it winded around a corner and disappeared from sight.

"I understand, Soridormi, but what I don't understand is WHY I'm here." Nuk'hara seemed to be rather annoyed with his current position of being unable to determine his purpose in this sanctuary.

"Because, Nuk'hara, we need your help." She suddenly stopped in her tracks, raising her staff up to rest it on her shoulder. Nuk'hara kept going for a few steps before stopping to look back at her, confused. The elf sighed in response, turning towards the current mini-cavern they were in front of – the near right with the leaning tower.

"The past… It is in turmoil. And, for some reason, we cannot fix it," the elf said shakily. It seemed to pain her that she – a Bronze Dragon, the Prime Consort to Nozdormu even – could not fix it.

"Whoa, whoa! Whoa! … Say that again. You want ME-…" Nuk'hara pointed to himself. "… To go back in time?" He then pointed at the passage way, the look on his face almost priceless – he was completely dumbfounded and confused.

"You catch on quick. It took me hours to explain to the last travelers that came through here," she said with a smile. It was a twisted and fearful smile, one that made the orc uncomfortable.

"Uh-huh… Aaaaand what happened to those others?" Nuk'hara was curious. His right eyebrow perked up to show this. The smile of the elf faded suddenly at the thought.

"Well, what happens to all would-be heroes that rush in uneducated?"

"… They die?"

"Exactly."

Nuk'hara seemed to be surprised by her coldness. The dragons were the protectors of Azeroth, and yet they seemed as ruthless as the mortals that inhabited it. Though, one could suppose that a dragon who has seen many of her own die in her many years could end up not really caring too much.

Several long moments of silence passed before Soridormi started off in the direction of the passage. It took Nuk'hara a few seconds before he decided to follow her. This entire plan to come in search of the missing expeditions seemed to have been a mistake. Lita and Bargar were missing, and a dragon was going to lead him to his doom. What a fantastic day it had been for Nuk'hara.

"Alright, Nuk'hara. Are you ready?" The elf spoke with a sense of determination. She was either tired of this problem or just anxious to see what he could do.

"Yes, I am. It's this way, right?" His right hand rose up to point in the direction of the passage.

"Yes. Two of our agents are there waiting for you. They will supply you with the necessary armaments. Go, Nuk'hara! Don't disappoint us like the others."

Before she had even finished her sentence, Nuk'hara – with axe in hand – started to sprint towards the inside of the passage and around the corner. A bright light greeted him, but he did not falter and just continued on…

To Be Continued


	5. Welcome

**~Soulcleaver~**

Part V: "Welcome"

Rolling hills of green grass, roads of dirt lined by trees made up this beautiful land known as the Hillsbrad Foothills. Farms, a few towns, a watch tower or two and a fortress were what gave clear indications to the fact that people inhabited this area. The two towns were trading posts; one for the northern mountains of Alterac and beyond and one for the southern seas of Lordaeron. Tarren Mill and Southshore were their names respectively, the citizens of each town living in relative peace.

To the east were the Hillsbrad farms, and to the west was the Internment Camp for the orcs known as Durnholde Keep. There was no worry in the people's lives, despite the close proximity of the savage and ignorant creatures to their homes.

In the town of Southshore, there is an inn, named after the town. Daily, people come in and out to rest, relax and meet up with old friends and family which they had left behind. Rarely, it often also served as a hospital and a homeless shelter.

In the upstairs first bedroom, there was a man lying on the bed. He was young and handsome, his hair released and falling over his shoulders and down a bit of his chest. He had a beard that circled around his lips, which was connected to sideburns that ran up to his head. He laid there with just a pair of linen pants, showing the rest of his body as sculpted and near perfect and flawless aside from a few scars.

Beside his bed, a woman sat on a stool, tending to him. She wore a white robe with a pink vest, straight blonde hair flowing from her head and cutting off just past her neck. Her eyes were blue as the sky and from her hair lengthy pointed ears were directed up at the ceiling. She looked quite young, but the dull fire which could be found within her eyes showed she was older than she appeared.

A groan came from the figure on the bed and his left leg curled inward, the knee coming up at a wide angle before stopping. After several minutes later, his eyes shot open and his body lurched forward. The man took deep breaths, letting out each with heavy sighs.

"By the ancestors… Where am I?" He took a long look around at the clean room. He didn't even notice the elf yet, but instead moved his legs from the bed and stood up. He walked over to a spot by a series a drawers with a bowl of water resting on a small table beside it and leaned down, cupping some water in his hands and bringing it up to his face.

As soon as the water made contact, he took full realization of what happened. With that revelation, he stumbled back and fell back on his bottom, raising his hands up to his face to look at them. They were tan instead of green. He also noticed the change in his tone of voice; he had a gentle but deep voice, instead of the brutish one he was so familiar with.

"Wh-what the f-…" He started off, but was silenced as he turned his head and noticed the woman in the room, sitting beside the bed he had moved from.

"Soridormi said to expect company, but we had no idea that you were so clueless," The woman's voice was soft but obviously quite harsh. The man ignored this remark.

"Who are you? 'We'? What?" He stammered in confusion, taken by surprise by his new form and the odd woman. Without much effort, he pushed himself to stand up, his head looking down over his new body, turning his head to look behind his back as much as he could. At that instant, he noticed the hair. His hands proceeded to reach up and begin groping at the soft albeit slightly greasy hair. His slimmed fingers ran through it time and time again before a sudden knocking at the door caused him to stop and turn around.

Three knocks sounded on the wood before it flew open and slammed into the wall beside it, leaving a black chainmail boot in the middle of the air. The foot lowered slowly to show another human, one with neat, black buzz-cut hair and a serious, clean face. His armor was green and brown scale mail, a long oaken bow over his back with the string over his chest and a combat knife in his right hand.

"Is this the man we're waiting on?" The man spoke with authority, his strong voice loud enough to probably be heard from outside the window or downstairs. He was several inches taller than the recently awoken human, allowing him to barge into the room and walk over to the elf sitting still. An annoyed but calm voice came up from behind the intruder.

"Nikolai, relax. It's probably his first time through the stream of time. It was the same with all of us." A man in dark red robes flowed up to the doorway from out of sight, his footsteps so quiet he could have just literally floated into the room without anyone noticing. His hair was down past his shoulders and was a light brown color. From his sideburns, hair grew down to his chin and formed a bit of a beard at the tip while growing up to cover his upper lip as well. His left eye was purple and the right was gray and he wore a pair of dark purple gloves.

"All of us…?" Nuk'hara was sincerely curious at this point. Who were these strange people? At what point in time was he at? Who said he needed help, anyway?

"Bah… You're no use." As Nikolai finished questioning the quiet elf, he turned and walked out of the room, the magic user stepping to the side to allow him to pass. "Come on, we can't keep the others waiting. Brutus is probably getting hungry."

"Your dog is ALWAYS hungry," retorted the robed one in the most sarcastic way he possibly could. He turned about, his grey eye shooting to look Nuk'hara in the eye before he began to follow his companion. The transformed orc took one look back at the Elven woman.

"How the fel am I going to get any work done if I have no equipment?"

"You came in with nothing but an axe."

"And I'll leave with that axe, too! Where is it?"

"It's outdated. Courtesy of the Bronze Dragonflight, we have given you an upgrade. You'll find it at the destination. The others will lead you there. And remember, in here, you are no longer the orc you were. You are now a human."

"Fine. I suppose I'll need a new name, since Nuk'hara isn't very human-like."

"It's already been decided upon. Your new name is Graylander. Dalton Graylander."

"It's decided, then. Any more surprises before we begin our mission?" The elf grinned at that, a grin which made Dalton cringe some.

"You'll see," she said simply.

"Cryptic. I hate puzzles." With the wave of a hand, he started down the stairs to meet with his group. An scale-clad archer named Nikolai, a pious and kind priestess named Monika, a heavily armored warrior named Brandon; a mysterious mage named Guilford. After gathering their equipment and armor from the nearby forge, a weaponless Dalton and his companions rode their way to Durnholde keep on horseback.


	6. The Execution

**~Soulcleaver~**

Part VI: "The Execution."

Most of the work had been painfully easy. Nikolai was an excellent shot and every arrow he loosed planted itself firmly in someone's throat or chest; Guilford had unleashed volley after volley of shadow and fire towards the ones Nikolai had managed to miss; Brandon was slamming his shield into the faces of anyone unlucky enough to be caught in his path; and Monika was managing to keep all of them alive despite any injuries they took.

Nuk'hara was cursing himself, however. He had been given the task of planting the incendiary explosives in the huts. While it was certainly the easiest job there was, he did not like that the others were having all the fun. The dragon that had ridden with them here had said they need to place one bomb in each of the huts. This was the fifth hut and he was grateful that this was the last one he would have to deal with. He was grateful for the axe he had been given. It had a haft made of a dark, sturdy wood with a blade of white metal that curved in a crescent shape. It curved again at the back side, so that it looked like an incomplete infinity symbol.

He had kept himself simply clad in a pair of red scale pants with a pair of matching boots. He had two dark leather straps over his chest, crossing over his back and chest in an X formation and locking together with a steal clasp in the front. A pair of shoulder pads went along with this, adorning his shoulders to protect his neck. They seemed to be steel or iron; he couldn't tell, all he knew was that they were strong.

Just like he had done with the previous buildings, he ushered the orcs outside as to prevent any harm to them. As he came outside, he huffed as he saw that all of the human guards had been slain, along with their mastiff servants. Nikolai was nudging the corpses with his feet, an arrow drawn in his bow if any sudden movements were caused. Guilford was doing something that was definitely odd. Nuk'hara had noticed that his compatriot had become hunched and his face was sunken as if he had gone through advanced aging. His voice had grown hoarse as well as he had asked that the survivors be tied and set against a nearby wall.

There were a few of the guards they had decided to take prisoner – two males and three females. They were gagged and forced to sit up on their knees with their hands bound behind their backs. Guilford stood before them and stared down at them, to which they stared back up at him in return. Their gazes were defiant glares of anger and by the way they were shifting, it was as if they were trying to loosen their bonds.

Guilford's left hand reached forward and pulled the gag from the first prisoner on the left, a woman. Her reaction was to spit up at him and she did not miss, hitting his cheek. Not bothering to wipe it away, his hand dropped the makeshift cloth gag and she fell over onto her side, spasming wildly. The other prisoners began doing the same. Nuk'hara looked on and the prisoners began to wither, their faces becoming deep and wrinkled, their physique turning into skeletons with a thin layer of skin protecting them and the hair on their scalps withered and grayed before eventually falling out. As he continued to stare, Guilford had perked up, looking rejuvenated. Nuk'hara was speechless, to say the least, at this brutal display.

As Guilford reached up to wipe the spittle away from his cheek, Monika moved up from behind him and began usher prayers to the withered corpses, a late set of final rites for prisoners executed before they were absolved of all their sin. Her black hair covered her face as she ducked her head, issuing the collective prayer to help the spirits of the departed along.

Just like clockwork, the first shack exploded. A minute later the second blew and the third a minute after that. The explosions were not violent as the only thing that blew up were the barrels the charges were placed in. The insides were drenched in flame which quickly ate away at the dry roofs of the shacks. Finally the fourth and fifth shack echoed their predecessors, becoming covered in flame inside and out.

Everyone was already on the move, their feet thudding against the dry dirt of the grounds of the camp, trying to make their way up to the higher levels to free their priority target. As they rounded the corner under the bridge, a heavily armored man with a large two-handed sword came running down the steps from the higher levels to the basin-like holding area of the Keep. Behind him was a retinue of men and woman with buckets, hurrying to put out the fires as he issued them to. His armor was gleaming steel and his helmet was painted blue.

He turned to see them and instantly began charging towards them, issuing curses with his battle cry. His sword came in contact with Brandon's shield and the two men recoiled from the force of the clash. Nikolai was already loosening a few arrows which pinged uselessly off of the enemy's armor as he charged again. He cursed himself and moved to flank the man along with Guilford. Nikolai aimed for the joints in the armor while Guilford worked on a massive spell, his hands drenched in flame and shadow.

Nuk'hara was the one to meet the charge this time, his human features pulled back into a grin of joy. He swung his axe from the sling and his blade locked with the armored man's in an upward arching swing that sent the man reeling once again as Nuk'hara's strength trumped his own. He refused to go down, however. Before he could make another charge, Brandon raced past and smashed his shield into the man's chest, his heavy mace swinging around to smash against his leg.

The man cried out in pain, his armor dented and his leg undoubtedly broken. Brandon backed away just in time as a huge ball of fire smashed into his opponent's back, sending him stumbling forward. It was Nuk'hara who dealt the final blow, seeing his chance. He whipped his axe up in a wide arc, pulling the weapon high overhead before bringing it down on the man's exposed neck. His head rolled off to the side, his eyes wide in disbelief as he was bested.

Everyone was breathing heavy – save for Monika and Guilford, the former giggling in obvious amusement and the other staying quiet and watching that head roll. Brandon was the first to let his voice be heard, however.

"Come on," he started. "We need to move before those people putting out the fires engage us as well." Without arguing, the others simply followed him as they made their way up to the keep.


End file.
